Holding Back the Sun
by Masako Moonshade
Summary: Admiral Iroh goes to the South Pole on a mission...and finds himself facing some rather annoying resistance.


Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar.

AN: Here's a little game for you. Try to figure out who the characters are before reading the end. This is actually one of my more twisted pairings. Also one of my infamously strange theories.

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** Holding Back the Sun **

"Admiral Iroh," one of the soldiers said, standing in the door. "We have sighted another village."

"Very well," the eighteen year old Admiral said, trying to keep the annoyance from showing in his voice. Regardless of what his father said about necessity and duty, he found no pleasure in these raids. There was logic, of course, in the actions; after all, what better way to stop an attacking army than to kill off its soldiers before they were trained?

But logic made him feel no better about the situation.

"Er...Admiral?" the soldier said when Iroh left the armory, clad in his standard gear.

"Yes?"

"It seems we have a guest." Iroh raised an eyebrow and followed the soldier to the deck. Surely enough, a lone figure stood on the village wall, staring defiantly back at him.

It was a woman.

She didn't move as the great ship approached, as steady and ruthless as a leviathan. She didn't turn away or try to run. She just stood there.

It was a useless gesture—she was only one girl, a teenager, at most, attempting to stare down a warship. She might as well have tried to hold back the very sun, for it was just as futile. Yet something about her was almost noble. Fierce.

"Lower the ramp," Iroh ordered, and the men obeyed.

"Shall we ready riders?" one of the officers asked. Iroh shook his head, fastening a sword at his side.

"Have a dozen men prepare for battle and wait for my signal. I won't need more." Without further instructions, he marched down the ramp, toward the frozen settlement.

"You are not welcome here!" the girl shouted through the frigid air, staring down at the Admiral.

"May I assume, then, that you are the unwelcome committee?" Iroh laughed pleasantly. The girl didn't seem to share his humor. "Are there no men in your village? Let me speak to them."

"They do not want to talk to the likes of you, nor do they need to. You have only one message from this village: _go away_." Iroh grimaced. It was very difficult to understand her shouting through the arctic wind. And it was just plain annoying to be yelled at like a small child by an angry girl. He raised a hand to the wall and exhaled, releasing an elegant stream of fire into the snow and ice. The fire faded before it reached the girl's boots, though it completely melted the wall on which she stood. Her expression became one of shock and alarm as the floor fell away beneath her feet and she tumbled to the ground. She landed in the snow with a soft _thud_.

"You shouldn't underestimate the Fire Nation," he pointed out as the girl scrambled to her feet. "Now bring me the head of your village before—mph!" A snowball left the girl's hand and hit him squarely in the face. Though it was covered in slush, the projectile was packed hard, and more than a few shards of ice had found their way into it. Iroh felt a bruise begin to form on his otherwise cold cheek, and tried to ignore the snow that had fallen under his armor, sending uncomfortable chills across his skin.

"I said _go away_!" the girl said angrily. "You have no business here so leave us _alone_!" she punctuated the statement with another snowball. Iroh was ready for this one, and melted it with a casual sweep of his hand.

"No," he said simply. The girl looked slightly frightened for a moment, though her eyes maintained their steely resolve. She bent and formed another snowball. Iroh threw back his head and laughed.

"Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?" he chortled. "I am a Prince of the Fire Nation. An Admiral of the Fire Lord's army. I have plenty of warships under my command, all of which are waiting for my signal. Do you honestly hope to stop me with a few snow—bmph." Another mass of slush hit his face.

"Of course I do," the girl said, her voice as cold as her ammunition. Iroh rolled his eyes.

"You are very funny," he admitted. "But I don't have time for this." Melting the next snowball before it reached him, he walked past the girl, through the opening he had made in the wall.

"No!" the girl shouted, running at him. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back. "I won't...let you...in!" Every pause was accompanied by a desperate heave backwards. Iroh sighed and shook her off, and she tumbled into the snow. Undaunted, she returned to her feet and again ran at him. This time she put herself between him and the village, her face both desperate and defiant. Iroh paused for a moment.

The girl was shaking with fury and cold, and thick clumps of snow clung to her disshelved hair. But there was no denying that she was pretty. Just about Iroh's age, too...

_Focus, Iroh,_ he told himself and continued walking. The girl looked alarmed and threw herself forward, pushing furiously against his chest as though to push him out of her home. Iroh shrugged her off. Undaunted, she came forward again and started pounding her fists against his armor. It was, though loud and annoying, a rather pointless maneuver.

"That's—" Iroh began.

"That's enough Grae!" another voice called from within the village. A young man walked through the snow, his face covered in warpaint. He held a boomerang in one hand and a spear in the other. Obediantly, the girl backed away from Iroh.

"Get inside, Grae," the warrior ordered. "I'll take care of him." Iroh rocked back impatiently on his heels. _Finally the men come out to fight_, he thought. _It took them long enough._

"Will you? That's good to hear," he said. The warrior glanced at him, the gesture magnified by black and white stripes that adorned his face. "But enlighten me, how do you intend to do that? I have ten ships awaiting my command. A hundred soldiers. Do you intend to take care of them as well?" The warrior swallowed visibly, though he did not step down. "You have two options. You may surrender, or you may die. I suggest you decide quickly." The warrior glared even more fiercely and charged at the Admiral, his spear raised like a lance. Iroh didn't flinch. He only raised his hand, aiming casually at his attacker as he drew on the fire within him.

"_NO_!" Grae cried. She threw herself at Iroh, wrapping both arms around his, forcing his hand to the side. A fierce plume of flame raced into the air, missing the warrior by only a few inches, though still carving an ugly scar in the snow between the fighters. Both of them stood frozen for a surprised moment, staring at the girl. Grae was still pulling at Iroh's arm, her blue eyes sparkling in determination.

_She really is very pretty._

"Grae-Grae?" a small voice squeaked from behind the warrior. A little child stepped out of one of the tents, its eyes wide with concern. "What's going on, Grae-Grae? I'm scared."

"Get back inside, Tohru," Grae said evenly, though Iroh could see the newborn fear in her features, and tears begin to form in her eyes. "Go inside. Everything will be fine." A second girl, this one no older than thirteen, rushed out of the tent, herding the child back to safety. But the child's cry had summoned curiosity from others. Tent flaps were shifted slightly, and several more small children poked their heads from the tents.

"Grae-Grae?" they chirped, worry in their innocent faces.

"Please, just leave," Grae begged quietly, her voice trembling slightly.

"Get away from there, Grae!" the warrior said. A few more had joined him, though there weren't even a half dozen. Iroh had no interest in them. He only saw the girl, defiant despite her now evident terror.

"How many men are in this village?" he asked so only she could hear.

"Twelve," she spat. "Are you satisfied? Go."

"Is the Avatar among them?" he pressed. Regulation was regulation.

"Of course not!"

"And him? The fool with the spear? Who is he?"

"He's no fool. He's my fiancée." The tears finally escape her eyes, running down her face in silent streams.

"Oh. Sorry," Iroh said, not sure why he felt so disappointed. He reached up with his free hand. Grae flinched, though she didn't loose her hand on his other arm. Her fiancée jerked, though he too didn't approach, too wary of provoking his opponent's wrath towards Grae. Iroh smiled gently and wiped the tears from the girl's cheeks.

Such lovely eyes should not be spent weeping.

"I wish you happiness." He said nothing more, but pulled his arm from her startled grasp and turned, walking back to his ship. He didn't look back as her beloved rushed to her side, comforting her, helping her inside to shelter and a warm fire, barking orders to the other men to keep watch and prepare for battle.

"Admiral Iroh?" one of the officers inquired as Iroh returned up the ramp. "I'm sorry, but we didn't recognize your signal..."

"I didn't give one. This village is no threat to us. Leave it."

"But—"

"Leave it. And tell the cooks to prepare some noodles. I want something to eat."

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A/N: And so ends Iroh's meeting with Grae. Of course, in time they both grow up. Iroh is promoted in time, becomes the great Dragon of the West, and joins his son on a wild goose chase to hunt down a mythical figure.

Grae gets married and has a son before losing her husband to the war. Her son marries and has children of his own, who find it difficult to call her _Grandmother Grae_. So they christen her _Gran-Gran_.

Yes, Iroh/Gran-Granis an...interesting pairing. This is also the first one in existence, as far as I know. But tell me, did you guess who Grae was before I told you? This was partially inspired by a picture done by Booter-Freak, who is a talented author and amazing artist.


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